The diary of the Awesome Bad Dog!
by Terri Leinn Vie
Summary: Au Bad Dog/Gilbert just transfers to an elite, boys-only academy. Interschool competitions, interhouse secret pathways, illegal night huntings and greeting ex-teacher ghost are just a few of those small issues Gilbert and his friends will encounter.


A/N: Uh, for those who are waiting for "The promised world", the new chapter is in process, so don't worry! I will be out soon! Also, this story is for purely humor, but there are actually hints on pairings. Let's enjoy!

Warning: Some language issues, cursings and a lot of madness!

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><p><strong>Monday, 17th January<strong>

04:00 Lay awake. The sky outside is dark. No trail of light, except the ones coming out of my torch. I suppose I should get out of bed in order to put my clothes in the suitcase. Germania kept nagging me since last week and the old man would surely have a heart attack if he checks and find out that there is nothing but air in the luggage. West nearly fainted last night when I admit I have not a clue what to pack. Both of them are the same. Drama queens.

I should really get up now.

04:55 Keep debating what the cons and pros of getting up and packing. Pros: save my ears from severe damage. Cons: getting a damned cold and ended up in a comma after leaving the comfortable warmth of my dear blankets. After a quite heated debate, I decide to stuff old man and West.

05:00 Aside from me, the neighbor dogs seem to be the only one awake as they bark savagely at the rising sun.

05:15 Bark! Bark and fucking bark! Those damned dogs better watch out! The awesomeness is coming!

05:45 Dear diary. I hate to admit it but I was awesome. Here come my report. Arming with Germania's supersonic heat-seeking rose prayer (which, West comments, sounds like a ski boat hitting a sandback at full throttle), I made quite an amazing and powerful entrance. The waves that my awesomeness erupted – ok, it was the machine's – blew Germania's Queen Elizabeth rosebush out of the ground in an instance. Wearing my Legendary Kungfu Panda lucky pant (I have no idea why west always insisted his birthday gift is a sleeping short. It's clearly a decent pant to me!), and a surgeon's mask to protect myself from the wickedly and very deadly chemical, I pointed my weapon toward the damned dogs, who seemed not a bit fazed by my attack. Well, they would soon regret it. If Germania agreed to let me continue my winning war of course.

The old prick has a few screws off I always know. I am always awesome. Yet, he insisted that I was being rudely inappropriate, dancing like a demented loon on the lawn in front of his room! I told him that I was trying to wedge psychological warfare on the enemies, by showing off my awesome war stances and that, he had no bud taste for intelligent strategies. Germania looked unimpressed, told me to switch it off and get back to bed before he shoved the damned prayer down my throat.

Wickedly angry at the injustice of all. When I have become the next president, I shall behead that old prick for being an up-tight, anti-Gilbert type of uncle.

06:01 I'm exhausted. West shook his head, saying he's amaze at how early I am in practicing my madness. I told him to stop being my mother and pack the trunk for me. The kid scowled, sighed, and then got straight to work. Trust my awesome brother to always be reliable!

06:15 It seems that I'm not the only one who was exhausted. Plopping on my bed, which located in the second floor level, West and I can still hear Germania verbally abuses the policemen at the gate. The sight of our respectable uncle in his scandalous pink nightgown (my Christmas present) must have frightened the government officers because they ended the discussion by heartily apologizing to him and scuttling off to the protection of their police van.

The awesome Beilschmidt: 1 The neighbors aka losers: 0

07:00 Breakfast is as bad as ever. Germania's cooking sucks balls. West is courageously trying to swallow a mouthful of greeny scrambled eggs (including shells). I bet the poor chap is longing to throw the piece of craps outside the window, but our uncle is watching like a hawk. He said both of us should have some nourishment - especially me, who is leaving for the boarding school.

I told him that I'm very nervous and it'd not be cool if I was to vomit his cooking out because of my anxiety. It would be a huge waste, I assured him. Germania nodded in considerate sympathy and slipped whatever food (or I hope it is) on my dish to the miserable West's.

I hope my cute little brother could still survive until next year, when he is old enough to escape to my boarding school.

07:47 Rome arrived with his car. He gentlemanly grabbed my trunk to load it into the boot of the vehicle, saying that this was a good example of adult's responsibility. Less than 5 seconds, the middle aged man had put his back out while trying to do the impossible. He clutched at his back like he's just been stabbed, collapsed on the grass and then squirmed around in agony. I laughed merrily at the drama queen while West, who is half Rome's size, lugged my trunk to the car and squeezed it onto the back seat with such ease that Rome busted into tears.

08:00 Germania ordered Uncle Rome to change his clothes as it seemed he's rolled in something smelly during his dramatically writhing on the grass.

08:30 Rome hasn't returned yet. Germania looks quite keen on slaughtering someone.

08:40 We're now running late. My uncle stormed into the house, ready to chew a certain man's head off.

09:00 Officially late. Still no sight of Rome. And Germania either. Wondering what the hell take them so long. I directed this question to West, who shrugged and then mumbled something in his mouth. I asked him what he was muttering about. He said he was mentally recounting to see if he has missed to pack any of my underwear stock. He also worries that with the trunk lying in such odd position, my socks which he had folded very neatly might be crumbled. I laughed at his wicked joke. However, my laughter fizzled out fairly quickly when the kid appeared to be very serious.

Feeling slightly disturbed by the ODC psychological symptoms my brother is displaying.

09:05 Finally, two figures emerged from the house. I asked them what the hell take them so long. Germania grunted about stress releasing therapy while Rome pointed at his black and blue face sadly.

West is still muttering to himself. No doubt still mentally go over my under wears checklists for the twenties-something times.

11:00 A German guard saluted us and then opened the huge white school gates. We passed through and drove along a beautiful avenue of trees called Pilgrim's walk toward the school's gigantic red brick buildings which are all covered in green moss and ivy. Rome and Germania were too busily distracted by me pointing out a pair of mating dogs that my foster uncle didn't spot the speed bump that savaged the underbelly of his old car. Our 1973 Renault station wagon limped up to the school and slid in between a Roll Royce and a Mercedes-Benz. To announce its grand arrival, Rome's rust-infested jalopy vomited up a couple of gallons of oil onto the ancient cobblestone paving.

A dude who wore the same uniform as mine, except for the blue tie, stepped down from his mother's two-seat brand new Audi sport car. After the hot piece of car sped back down to the gate, the filthy rich jerk cast a haughty glance, with his nose directed skyward, at our direction. He saw me, receiving a middle- finger from me, sniffing in an incredible annoying manner of a gay aristocrat then stalked off. That faggot better hid his ugly, mole-y face from my awesome sight because the next time we had the misfortune to meet, I'm so going to rip his hair off, gorge out his eyes and knocked all his teeth out. How dare he look down on my family!

Fuming but deciding that I should be generous once in a while. After all, there are plenty of times for sweet revenge. As we walked to my dorm, we saw two dudes around my ages, who wore the same red tie as mine. They introduced themselves as Francis and Antonio, when noticing my family's pointed stares. They had been here for two years already and sent me odd looks when they heard I'm the new student. Francis is slender, in a feminine elegant way, and confident with blue eyes and wavy hair. I would die before admit it but I think Francis has a very pretty face and his voice hasn't broken yet. Rome even mistook him for a chick and started to flirt with the poor guy, but thankfully, before my dorm mate could officially be freaked out, Germania came to save the day by calmly delivering a rather painful kick to Rome's shin.

Antonio laughed, complimenting that my family is very funny. Francis forced a giggle while I beamed. The Spanish is the type of dude that no one liked to mess around. He was tall but not the kind of stringy tall, more like a healthy, good-looking type, much like my self. His English sounds weird, but so is Francis's. Wickedly jealous of his manly tan. Francis explained that they were third years as well and politely agreed to let me tag along with them, seeing all three of us are going to be housemates.

I told my family that I would be fine from now on, seeing that I just had to follow these two. They could go home. However, unlike what I expected, Germania and West seemed reluctant to leave and offered to walk me down to my dorm. I insisted that I am not a baby anymore and that they should stop being a mother hen to a 14 years old healthy and very manly teenager. Even Rome agreed with me! However, for some reasons, he changed his decision unusually fast after a short private discussion with my uncle and brother. Rome even declared with unnatural enthusiasm that he was dying to see what kind of roof, under which his beloved Gilbert would shelter for the next following years. Then, he shouted at my future housemates to lead the way quickly.

Talk about mood swing.

Francis, in a courteous attempt to help me the new student, nearly toppled over as he tried to lift my trunk with his skinny arms. Chiding the weak boy in a good-natured manner, Antonio cheerfully carried both my belongings and the exhausted French all the way back to where our house is. I don't think anyone I've met was as monstrously strong as this dude.

The main quadrangle is surrounded by buildings, which, West says, reminding him of those medieval castles in the old Disney cartoons Feliciano likes to watch. I told him to quit being a pansy ass and he blushed, staying silent for the rest of the trip. We head toward a building that looks definitely more ancient than the rest. I secretly admitted that this one shares an unwelcome similarity with those castles Hollywood usually hires to produce their horror movies. My housemates led us up a narrow, hollow staircase, through a long dormitory containing about 15 empty beds and into another deeper dormitory. This one is slightly sunnier than the rest, having several big windows throughout the room. It is small, however, and cramped with just enough space for 8 beds. It feels spooky and smells of sweat and old socks. One of these 8 beds is mine.

The dormitory is divided into cubicles by five foot wooden partitions which separate 1 cubicle from the next. Each cubicle has two wooden beds, two cupboards, two footlockers, a blanket, pillow and mattress. Under each bed there are two drawers with golden door knocker handles. A few guys wearing the same red tie as me were either unpacking their trunks, doing last minute homework, staring at me or staring at space.

Francis and Antonio are sharing a cubicle and they pointed to the one next to theirs as mine. I smirked, throwing myself on the bed to test the quality of my new bed. It sure felt nice to have a bed of your own for the first time, or a cubicle-mate that is not as uptight as my brother. I must admit, I am being a little more than a little frustrated after sharing the same bed with a prick like West for the last 10 years.

The bed next to mine doesn't have a name. I asked Francis why. He and Antonio shared an unreadable glance before simultaneously declaring that I would see soon, just be patient. I was dissatisfied and was ready dig deeper, even if it meant brutal force but at that moment, I was distracted by the sudden tension from my family. Rome's blood was draining quickly from his face and he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but between the two glaring Germans, who seemed to have some kind of internal, private arguments. I thanked whatever Gott up there that all my housemates are not German or at least, can't understand German.

Because if they did, I would have to commit suicide, or homicide, seeing that my uncle and little brother were brewing a huge debate about which drawer would house my socks and which my underpants. I wondered what the difference then asking out loud why the hell should they be the one to decide where I put my private belonging anyway? My uncle and brother stopped dead on their track. My words dawned on them and shortly afterward, both blushed madly. West mumbled something incoherently while fingering his shirt's sleeves and Germania scoffed, punching Rome without reason.

I reckoned this neatness disorder is eating both of them. Wondering if there is a cure and anxiously worried that it might be a transmittable disease.

15:00 After much useless suing and pansy half-ass promises to call home everyday (in such cases like my obsessive overprotective family, may be every hour), at last, my uncle and brother departed. From my new room's window, I waved lazily and stared after them until the wagon had disappeared behind the corner. Suddenly, I wish I didn't push them away that hard. I've never felt so small in my life.

Francis effectively dragged me out of my short depressed moment by planting a big smooch on my lips! I was too shock to react properly and stupidly stared at the satisfied French, who looked proud of himself. Antonio laughed, patted my shoulder and told me that Francis might appear as an innocent, defenseless pretty maiden but he's actually a perv. The Spanish said I should not take the joke into heart, because for the last two years they had shared a cubicle, Antonio had nearly been raped for more than ten times. He also added that I was a lucky one, seeing how Francis forced on him a bum massage when they first met.

I nodded, composing enough coolness to declare that it's not Francis's fault that I'm a fucking irresistible piece of hot ass. When the pervert sent me an unnerving suggestive smile, I smacked him in the nose and told both my new friends that it's my German way to say "Nice to meet you and fucking stay out of my pant if you want to keep your teeth, rapist."

To Francis, the message was clear, I reckon.

18:00 Dinner time. Two boys in the dorm followed us and sat in the same table as us so I introduced myself.

A guy call Mathias beamed at me, complaining loudly that I should have notice him way earlier. I didn't even know he was there. He was tall, broad and as goofy as the Goofy in Mickey Mouse. Mathias pointed at a wickedly fearsome guy, whose name is Berwald and tell me that they are BFF, or best friend forever. Berwald looked deadly horrify to hear that so he said, in rough English accent, that he'd jump off London's bridge before the day both of them are anything but life-long enemies. Mathias laughed heartily, and whispered to me that his best mate is just shy.

To make my life easier, Berwald, as an old student, looked very serious as he formally gave me important tips liked "Stay off the grass" or "Don't run in the hall way" as we had our dinner. Mathias shrugged with fake pity when I sent the _look_ at him. Frankly, I was wickedly bored, despite Berwald's kind intention, but a small Asian mouse, sitting next to me, seemed to found those advices extremely helpful. He listened with unwavering concentration, as if he was learning legendary secret information from a top notch professor. The mouse even took notes! He is seriously reminding me of West.

Francis kept whining about the little greeting gift I gave him. He said if he was strong enough, he would have sock me for breaking his perfect nose. He insisted it was crooked and his magnificent French accent was ruined because he couldn't talk without sounding like a hag on verge of dying. I simply accused him of being a faggot and flicked my remaining pudding at him.

To say he was annoying was an understatement. But as if I cared what that wimp thought. A bit sorry for Antonio because he looked as if he couldn't understand why Francis and me were glaring at each others.

20:30 The mouse's name is Kiku. He is also a new student. He's very short and incredibly formal. When I informed Francis this bit of news, the perv lets loose a gleeful squeal and attached himself, or rather his lips, to the stunned Jap. Berwald had to physically haul the fag off poor Kiku, seeing how the overfriendly greeting from Francis had turned the shorter boy's face an unhealthy shade of purple. We were madly worried when Mathias pointed out that the Jap seemed to have stop breathing!

Thankfully, no ambulance needed to be called. Kiku was back after a few minutes. The French was above himself at the thought that he had just escaped a serious crime of murdering someone. After the Jap returned to earth, he smiled forcefully at the frantically concerning Francis, who was apologizing profusely. Kiku said it's not that big of a problem and he's just simply tired. He also added he was kind of used to this type of molesting because he owned an even worse brother with a terrible breast groping fetish.

The considerate or polite comfort helped to cheer up the guilty French and the pervert innocently asked if the Jap wanted to share the bed with him tonight, seeing how new student tended to be homesick regularly. This might be a generous suggestion in Francis's opinion but the Jap looked a tad more uncomfortable, shook his head and hurriedly excused himself to his own bed before Francis could protest. I reckon the Jap was terrifying at just the mere thought of sharing anything with Francis.

Noticing the bed next to Kiku's had the "Hero" words imprinted. The owner of bed next to mine hasn't appeared yet.

21:00 Lights out! My first night away from home. Just when I tuck myself in the mattress, a broad dude dramatically jumped into the dorm from the window. Aside from me and a shivering in fear Kiku, no one really paid him any attention, which was rather strange, because the crazy guy was adorning a superman's rainbow colored skintight suit! He announced he's home, saw me, winked then sauntering to his bed next to Kiku's. He must be the second tallest in our dorm. Feeling sorry for Kiku, who must only stand to the hero's armpit.

I can hear the hero continues to talk his heart out in his cubicle. No sound from the Jap. No doubt the mouse is playing dead right now.

22:00 The talking continues. Everyone else is sound asleep. They must be used to the annoying parrot, or they didn't have a good hearing as I am. I'm on the verge of committing suicide.

22:30 He hasn't shut up yet! My brain is exploring!

22:45 This means war.

23:00 The hero knows his place now. He shut his mouth pretty quickly after I pointed my Swiss army knife between his temper and threatened that if he doesn't let me get my damned rest then I'm going to castrate him right there and then. The dude busted into tears and is sobbing in his bed.

I am so awesome. Thinking I can become a super villain in the near future.

23:15 Am sick of the fucking sobbing. Gave the drama queen a chocolate frog to turn his water running pipe off. I asked him why the fuck hadn't he slept yet. The hero replied that he has a sleeping disorder. I then asked if there was a cure, because if there wasn't, I assured him I could help him rest forever with several professional aid, one of them included my knife and his gentiles. He promptly said that there was and had the nerve to tell me tucking him in. I said fuck off.

23:25 Lay awake, listening to the loon rolling around his bed, mumbling and humming aloud in his wake. Damned it all!

23:45 After I tuck him in, read some damned hero tales for him, the crazy dude finally fell asleep, with his mouth wide opened and his pale tongue rolled out. Thanks Gott for the blessing of not sharing my cubicle with this American pig.

Before drifting to sleep, feeling sorry for Kiku, and added an extra prayer for him to stay sane. Slightly curious who is sharing my cubicle. Hoping feverishly that it's not some hysteric madman.

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><p><strong>Tuesday, 18th January<strong>

06:15 Awoken by a terrifying siren. I jumped out of bed, waving my knife and called out "Fitz" before I could stop myself. Alfred, in his morning glory, blurrily queried who Fitz is. I told him it's his mother before stumbling with the rest of my housemates to the showers. The bogs (toilet area) consist of ten showers on a grey concrete floor with six basins and four toilet stalls. Francis and Antonio, who somehow magically had finished their showers, stood aside to watch over us, or in the pervert French's case, watching us showering. He made sly comments about everyone's willy. The funniest one must be when he described Kiku's as "a runty silkworm with an eating disorder". The Jap looked shock to find out that every boy has body hair, except him. Antonio thought Kiku's manhood looked like a spud and we all agree that it's an awesome nickname for the Jap.

Feel relieved that no one dared to say anything when they saw my scars. Not sure I won't lash out.

06:30 Roll-call. (We have to start everyday with this. Mathias reckons it is to check nobody has run away or died in their beds.)

For some reasons, after the shower, I didn't see Spud until the last minutes. Francis innocently asked if he was masturbating before. The Jap blushed, then stammered some rubbishes about getting lost. I thought he might say the truth, though I started to chant the Wanker chant anyway.

Berwald was assigned as the head of the house this year, and one of his duty is checking on the house's students. When Berwald called out your name, you had to shout "Sharks" in reply (not even Mathias, his best mate, knows why). When a name was called out, Berwald would then glare (though he denied it later) at its owner for some time before reading the next. His English accent is wickedly hilarious (and damned hard to understand), but because he is massive, no one dared to make a snide comment.

Berwald has a faint lisp, which was severely tested by the name of Francis, whose last name is Bonnefoy. After a number of attempts at getting it right, he glared at Francis and rechristened him with the first thing that came to his mind - which was "Bum Rusher" (the awesome idea belongs to me!). The name shocked the fag and I know he must want to disagree, but the look - which meant 'I'm very sorry', according to Mathias - on our head boy, was so savage, Francis smiled with tears in his eyes.

(Most people called each other by nicknames here. I have decided names for others so far so not sure who decide my name and which one I will get. Hoping I'd be Lord Gilbert or The Awesomeness!)

We had breakfast in the big hall, where every house sat together. It kinda reminds me of the scene in Harry Potter's Hogwarts, without girls and magic of course. Though, I doubt Hogwarts will ever achieve the chaos and utter madness like my schoolmates do. Alfred –the hero and nicknamed, by me, Gay Chicken – told us a story about an abattoir over a breakfast of eggs and sausages. Francis, already stuck with the name Bum Rusher, turned a pale green, ran outside and vomited in the flowerbed, with a concern Antonio on his tail. All of us cheered. Mathias and I high-fived Gay Chicken.

9:00 A new boy just arrived. He was transferred from Russia and because of flight delay or some similar craps, he was late for a day. Berwald led the new boy into the dorm and 8 of us stared at the awkward Ruskie. He was huge, even for his age. He was the same age as us, yet this Russian was as tall as Germania. May be he was mutated? Berwald told us the giant's name is Ivan Bragniski, and we were to treat him with hospitality and respect. He particularly glared at me when he said this. Wonder why.

Due to shortage in bed, Ivan was located in a really, really small bed (frankly, a closet) just across from my cubicle. It would not be my problem if it was several inches too short for him. The issue here is the guy is clearly a deranged individual who looks slightly brain damaged. He also nearly always wore this creepy smile that sent shivers down my spine. Thankfully, the Russian seemed to be fond on Francis, who for the first time, denied he's French, in order not to kiss the psychopath namely Ivan. Smart guy.

After the brief introduction, Berwald, and the rest of my dorm-mates, spent the rest of the day showing us the new students around the school and telling us what everything means. I am not too far from comparing Hogwarts with World Central Academic. The school consists of years one to sixth. I and the rest of my dorm are all in 3rd year, with the exception of Gay Chicken who was first year. Apparently, because he was too much of a dynamic bomb for the younger students to handle, the principal let him be the first junior to room with seniors (A sensible move or not, I can't really say).

World Central is an elite international private school, so it's common knowledge that number of students accepted in is very small. There are 4 houses. Every house has 4 prefects and a head of house. The head of house is always a 6th year, so by being the first 3rd year having the power of head boy, Berwald is legendary.

Mathias seems to be prouder than Berwald when Spud commented that our head boy is remarkable. I asked Mathias what role he has. He said he's very ordinary, compared to the rest, seeing that even Spud is famous (he is the adopted son of the family which is richest in China). Antonio, or "Boggo" and Bum Rusher disagreed as they pointed out he must be something to be able to befriend with our fearsome head boy. Come to think about it, Mathias is actually pretty amazing as well.

It seems I am rooming with all the exceptional, out-standing students (Ivan could be considered as an achieved man as not many could pull up the demented look as well as him). Not sure whether to be proud or miserable, seeing I only arm with a scholarship as an award. Nobody wanted to say anything about my cubicle mate. Feeling extremely anxious.

19:00 As we sat down for dinner, Boggo filled me and the others in about Houses and its rule. Each house contains about 20 students and our house is called Rum with red tie as symbol. Yellow means York. Blue means Barn and Green means King. Even though the policy is not outspoken, believe it or not, there is actually a system for arranging student in each house. Rum is for academic students. York is for sporty, brawn more than brain type of dudes. Barn is the place for faggots and pansy as their students are all musical, girly types. King house is exclusive for the snobs, whose parents are filthy rich and contributed enough school fees to save a secured seat for their beloved sons. Though they are officially named King, other houses refer to them as Gecko.

I still remember the bastard with blue tie and turn to glare at the table of the Barn. All of them quickly pale and shivering like a leaf, though the aristocrat is not there. Wonder if someone has already assassinated him.

21:00 After light out, to prevent myself from extra waste energy, earlier, I had already tucked Gay Chicken in, forcing Spud to read some fairy tales for him before finally go to bed.

23:00 Ivan has a nasty habit of going to bogs every half an hour for a slash and a sip of water. This wouldn't be a problem if he didn't set his alarm clock every time. A tribunal made up of me, Bum Rusher, Mathias and Spud found the Ruskie guilty of smoggy behaviors and confiscated his alarm clock. I had also rationed Ivan to three visits to the bathroom per night. The dude looked wickedly ashamed and handed over his alarm clock.

I hope this will be the last time I need to yell someone's head off in order to have proper, uninterrupted rest. Slightly guilty when hearing the muffled sobs of Ivan.

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><p><strong>Wednesday, 19th January<strong>

05:50 I finally has a chance to see my cubicle mate. He's a Swiss and others prefer to him as Psycho. While most of the dorm seemed to hate or fear him, I found him hilarious. Reason?

I can't believe that Ivan is still wetting his bed. His desperate attempt to change his sheets before rising siren was foiled by Psycho, who just returned from wherever he had stayed until now. I didn't know much detail but when I'm awaken by the raising alarm of Psycho, it seemed that the shorter but definitely stronger English boy had stolen the yellow stained sheet and hung it up from the rafters out of Rain Man's reach.

When a snivelly Bum Rusher returned from the phone room after a chat with him mom, he discovered Rain man's soiled sheet hanging above his bed and charged down the bathroom with his hand over his mouth. The sight was so funny that I demanded to shake hand with Psycho, who appeared to be surprised and agree to my request. Though Mathias and Gay Chicken shared my humor, Berwald and Spud didn't. Spud handed the sobbing Russian a pink tissue that has some anime faces on it while our head boy looked like he was quite keen to slaughter someone, preferably Psycho, or Mathias, who was rolling in their cubicle, laughing his butt off.

06:40 Our first lesson was English with an strange teacher called Mr. Angus McGergor (nickname The Guv). He has a very posh English accent and strides around with walking stick, swearing like a maniac. His flaming red hair (which looks like it was still on fire after an accident thunder crash), tight, think lips and sour face (even worse than Berwald's condition) made him look like a giant praying mantis. I must admit that Angus could be described as good looking, if he didn't have one hell off eyebrows as he did however. He also owned some spectacular outbursts (within five minutes, he'd threatened to shoot off Bum Rusher' head with a shotgun). The highlight of the class was when he threw a pile of Nicholas Spark novels out of the window and called the author 'a boring faggot'. We all applauded, he bowed and then told us to get lost.

I liked the Guv but strangely enough, he seemed to have a life-long grudge against me. He kept asking difficult questions that for the life of myself, I've never heard of and of course, couldn't produce a correct answer at all. The Guv looked ready to tear his hair out when I said Joseph Heller is the author of Lord of the Ring. He called me a hopeless malnourished whining cretin, then as if to demonstrate his belief that my reading taste is in single figure, he produced a copy of "The Famous Five" and ordering it read in a week.

Pretending not caring and knowing if I couldn't graduate from this school, it's because of that damned Guv.

08:40 Getting lost and after being able to find my next class, the teacher glared at me and told me to report to the staff's toilet after lunch. Bum Rusher and Boggo snickered at me from behind so when the man didn't notice, I smacked each of the bastards on the face with my Italian dictionary. Look like Bum Rusher's nose would be a long way until it could be healed.

16:20 After spending the afternoon cleaning the staff bogs with a scrubbing brush and an old pair of underpants, I returned to a completely deserted house. What have I missed now? Feeling frustrated, I was ready to implant severe damages to one of the couches, until I saw the message on the notice board.

Tough Rugby 16:00 on Trafalgar.

Where the hell is Trafalgar?

I was thinking of ditching the stupid sport and launched straight to bed, but the thought that by playing the game, I could embed as much legal damages as I can to Bum Rusher and Ivan, made me strike right out off the door. I eventually made my way to the rugby field after abusing an old school guard to show me the directions.

Trafalgar is surrounded by huge plane trees and smells of freshly cut grass. Spread out across its length was the largest game of tough rugby in history (easily fifty a side). I joined one of the teams without anyone's noticing. The only recognizable face nearby was Spud's, who was desperately trying to avoid the action by sprinting away from the ball as fast as his toothpick legs would carry him

After I had scored three for my team (the scorer is the one do it. I have no idea which team I'm on), the ball was hurled across my side and by some freak chance, (and I mean freak!) it landed in the hands of Spud. Spud hurled off without even realizing that he was in possession and darted through a gap between two sixth years. A circus ensued as about twenty boys galloped after a terrified Spud who was making a beeline for the swimming pool. Eventually, it was Gay Chicken who flattened him with a crushing tackle just a few feet short of the pump house. Spud hit the ground with thud and immediately started writhing around on the concrete shrieking with pain. Boggo helped him to his feet and it was then that we saw Spud's left arm hanging limply at right angles to his elbow. Boggo picked him up, along with a frantic Bum Rusher and worried Berwald, sprinted off to the sanatorium.

18:00 Spud's left arm is broken. Gay Chicken returned to the dormitory after a series of "meeting" with the house teacher (unfortunately, is the Guv), looking depressed. In the morning, he has to see the headmaster or principal and he's worried that he'll be expelled. Mathias reckoned that Gay Chicken could set a record of the fattest expulsion ever – after only 3 days at his first year.

Couldn't sleep because Gay Chicken kept whining and groaning. Psycho, who has come back to his official bed, stalked over to Gay Chicken's bed with a cup filled with some weird color liquid. It was completely silence later. I asked him what he had put in the drink. He pointed to a pile of sleeping pills on his drawer and I cackled, congratulated him for the genius idea.

* * *

><p><strong>Thursday, 20th January<strong>

08:00 Gay Chicken is still with us. The principal has given a severe warning and the American has been ordered to write a letter of apology to Spud's adopted family. Wonder what about the Japanese's real parents.

08:45 Have our first history lesson, teaching by a wickedly old man. We are supposed to study about economy of Europe in the middle of 17th century. However, he told us we could read the book by ourselves and instead, showing us an old historical film on Second World War. Half way through the video, I cheered loudly when Germany kicked the Allies' asses quite victoriously. The old teacher, who now named Earthworm, declared I fail his class and told me to get lost or he'd strangle me with his hands. I shrugged, and waltzed out of the class. I have no appetite for History anyway and deciding to check on Spud as I have free time now.

Spud looked surprised and extremely moved that anyone could still remember him. I told him about last night event, between Psycho and Gay Chicken, and even though Spud shook his head in disapproval, I saw his lips lifted up in a sly smirk. Spud is not so bad, once he got over his shyness. We talked a lot about video games and schools and found we had a few things in common, like the love for fluffy cute things. When it's time for my next class, Spud looked disappointed, so I promised I'd bring him some of his picture books, or manga, next time. The promise of more visiting trips made him smiled.

14:30 Cricket Trials. It's compulsory and I don't really see the point of doing so, because all the first team members are going to be either the York or the Gecko. Although I was the best cricketer at my old school (not that difficult considering most of the school were either wimps or girls), I felt very nervous and excited about my first go at this school's cricket. The under 15 cricket coach is The Guv (much to my misery). He stalked around with his pipe and a shooting stick, making crazy comments liked, "French faggot (Bum Rusher),that forward defensive is about as porous as a whore's drawer!"

Boggo is an excellent cricketer and you'd have to see to believe how much that cheery dude transforming on the field. He looked even more dangerous than Psycho when pissed! Enough said.

Gay Chicken is a fearsome bowler (fast, incredibly strong and totally oblivious of his inhuman strength). He nearly killed Bum Rusher with a vicious bouncing delivery that reared up the terrified skinny dude. I saw the Guv almost sulked when the French successfully duck from a life-threatening crash. He noticed me looking and yelled at me to stop being a lazy kraut and picked my ass to the game. Mathias reckons he fancies me and I agreed that the damned devil fancies bullying the hell out of me!

Psycho charged in to the bowl with real aggression and savagery but let's the ball crawled rather slow. The Guv told him he should take the fridge off his back, which made all of us laugh. Psycho glared at us, and my dorm mates' laughter fizzled out instantly. I continued my raucous cackle and the crazy psychopath pulled out a catapult, with sharp rocks as bullets, and chasing me around the field!

I didn't shriek like a girl, I assure you!

Thankfully, the Guv barked at us to quit it. When I gave him a big grin for saving my ass, the moody loon turned a maroon shade and ordering me dropping down for 50 push ups! I stared at him in incredulity and then, it was Psycho's turn to cackling raucously at me.

Day dreaming hanging the Scottish cross-dressing bastard up the tree.

18:30 Prep (two-hour nightly homework session) was interrupted by Boggo's farting, which led to a complete classroom evacuation. Boggo pleaded that the beef stroganoff was off, and the terrible smell was not his fault. Bum Rusher was so livid (the rose he always kept in his pocket was deformed because of the awful toxic chemical), that he forgot he was a skinny skeleton and savagely beat his cubicle mate with a pink fly swatter!

Gay Chicken handed me a first draft of his apology letter to Spud's foster parents. He reckons that because I won the scholarship I was the ideal person to check his effort. Here follows the original:

_Dear Mister and Missis Spud._

_I am sorry about what happened to yor son Spud. I broke his arm buy mistake with a wiked crash tackle. It's not my folt Spud is bilt like a twig but I'm sorry for Mongreling his twig (his arm)._

_Sinserily_

_Gay Chicken_

21:15 After a brief reading, I was too busy laughing my butt off that Berwald had to hang me upside down in fear I would swallow my tongue. It's obvious that I rejected Gay Chicken's first draft (with spelling like that, I'm very doubtful whether the Rum House is for academic achieved students or not. May be it's really designed for madmen instead?). Huddling in his cubicle, we compose a new draft together. (Gay Chicken held the torch, I did the composing.)

_Dear Mr and Mrs Yao_

_I wanted to take this opportunity to profusely apologize for accidentally breaking your son's arm. However, in spite of the damage and pain that our friend Kiku has gone through I am still convinced that I saved him from further, and possibly life-threatening injuries. It is my belief that Kiku panicked in possession of the rugby ball and sprinted toward the pool in a blind panic. I brought him down, metres short of deadly danger, unfortunately causing him some pain in the process._

_One again, I apologise._

_Yours sincerely_

_Alfred F. John_

_PS: If Kiku is there, please tell him to get back quick – school just isn't the same without him._

Gay Chicken was wickedly impressed with the new version. He especially liked the pool bit and how it sounded like he'd saved Spud's life. He wasn't sure about the PS because it's common knowledge that Spud is in the sanatorium and not at home. I told Gay Chicken that he doesn't have a tiny brain cell as this is the most obvious perfect example of emotional warfare. He seemed blow away by this and declared that I should be his cubicle mate/ sidekick from now on. I told him to bonk himself and stormed back to my bed, leaving a pouting American behind.

21:20 Psycho had finally got sick of the whining insomnia Gay Chicken. He told me to go shut the bastard up or _he _would shut him forever. He also told me where he put his sleeping pills. During the process of finding the tablets, I found two heads of dead pigeons in his drawers. Feeling nauseous, I quickly shut the drawer back after finding the pills.

Giving Gay Chicken his drink, I sneakily took my blankets and pillows and slipped in the bed next to the unconscious idiot, who was drooling all over his mattress.

This Rum house must be the place for future murderers.

* * *

><p><strong>Friday 21st January<strong>

7:30 I'm officially freaked out. Ivan had somehow developed a nasty habit of staring at me and every ten minutes or so, the demented loon would let loose a series of squawky, demented giggles. I think I needed to carry my Swiss knife with me everyday now.

11:30 I'm so awesome! I should change my nickname to the awesomeness! I've made it to the main cricket team! It looks like I'm down to bat at three. Boggo is the captain (I'm still convinced that he had bipolar mental disorder). Also, the side is Gay Chicken and Mathias. Psycho was chosen for the B-side.

I phoned West to announce the amazing news, but Feliciano was on the line instead. He told me that Rome spent the night in prison, so he needed to stay in my place and Germania was on his way to bail Rome out! He didn't have the chance to give an explanation for his dad's arrest because a loud scream of "Potato Bastard!" interrupted him mid-sentence, followed closely by a wickedly loud crash, more furious curses and some pitiful whimpers before the line went dead.

My uncle's best friend could be a murderer!

Feeling homesick.

12:00 Our first drama lesson was with a beautiful woman, who's nicknamed Vast Lands. (This is due to her rather, or extremely, huge assets.) Some even said she nearly got the title of The Universal Miss once as well. Frankly, I didn't find Vast Lands very attractive, seeing how plain her face is. But most others, especially Bum Rusher and Mathias, violently disagreed as they said all of us would never meet a more perfect example of sexiness. I said I will consider, though I did admit her breasts are incredible and I wouldn't mind giving her a jolly good rogering. Mathias slid up to me later to whisper that Vast Land is Ivan's big sister.

Is it my imagination but I think I saw the Russian holding something shiny in his shirt?

Drama was awesome. We did all sort of funny things like pretend we were animals, thunderstorms and drawing pins. Once, everyone had stopped being shy, we had an absolute blast. Even Berwald, who I thought can never loosen up, did a fair impression of a snake giving birth to a seagull.

Unfortunately, the lesson was ruined when Vast Lands made us hold hands and tell each person that they were valuable and that we loved them. The sight of Gay Chicken and Bum Rusher holding hands were too much for me so I stormed out of the class in disgust. I could vaguely hear Vast Lands busted into tears and told the others that our class had bad karma (which also explained why Spud's arm was broken). I admit I felt pretty guilty but liked hell was I going back for those girly, repulsive gay-ish behaviors! I intended to take a long shower and cool my head down, but after a few steps, I heard someone shouted for me to duck. Instinctively kneeling down, I saw a shadow rushed past my head, straight to a bush nearby and a few minutes later, Psycho appeared, armed and looked every bit liked a professional wildlife mass murderer!

He glared at me and hissed: "_Where did it go?"_ I pointed to the left, specific how many meters and watched him dashing off without a thank. Well, he didn't have to, because I didn't help him at all. Slowly opening the bush next to me, I grimaced at the yellow puff of fluff, which was trembling liked a leaf in the middle of the storm. Only pansy ass liked cute stuffs. Because I'm no pansy, my blush was due to pity toward the poor creature with the little wings, chubby butt and soft, soft feathers!

So, grabbing the small chick, I headed to the san, forgetting all about the prank I had pulled on Psycho. He could eat grass for all I care.

12:00 The chick is named Birdie and Spud had tears in his eyes when he saw my pet. Actually, he looked liked Francis whenever the French watched us shower. The sight was unsettling so I smacked him on the nose, leaving him with an angry nurse and galloping across the hall to my lunch.

14:00 Vast Lands caught me at the hall and used emotional blackmail materials (tears) to force me attending her after class section. She wanted me to learn how to mediate, seeing how I could die early from all the negative dark force surrounding me. I nodded absently, just wanted to get rid of the annoying woman. She beamed happily and skipped off with suspicious loud noises following closely.

Am I imaging it but the Guv was glaring at me?

21:00 Lights out and still no sight of the Swiss. Sent a grateful thank to my ancestor because no doubt, Psycho would skin me alive after finding out my little prank. Hope he ended up in some hole and lost all his memories afterward.

22:45 Berwald sleepily woke me up and said that somebody was shouting from downstairs that I had an urgent telephone call. My heart sank as I remembered Rome. (Was this his final call before his imprisonment?) I stumbled down to the phone room and discovered a note pasted above the telephone:

_Meet me in the storeroom under the stairs. Psycho._

I considered ditching the crazy Swiss because, for God's sake, it's mid night already! As awesome as I am, I can't go without my sleep beauty. But the thought of a murderous, royally furious Swiss encouraged me to be awake enough to meet Psycho. I still wanted to live, damned it!

I crept past our common room and opened the creaky door to the storeroom, which looked a bit like a dungeon. A flame burner in the far corner of the room, and standing over it was Psycho, surrounded by feathers and holding the charred corpse of an impaled bird over a gas cooker. I whistled in impress, asking how did he find such awesome place.

Psycho only muttered that he only called me here so I could take my share. I was confused, because as far as I concerned, my cubicle mate and I weren't that close, let alone did some business together. The Swiss stared at me, and then sighed, seeming to believe that I really had no idea what he was talking about. It turned out that in the heroic attempt to save Birdie, I had accidentally helped Psycho in discovering a nest, which housed a a family of pigeons. I looked at him in disbelief, glanced at the several corpses of birds and noticed with unbidden horror a few bloody heads of the poor animals at the foot of Psycho.

I wanted to throw up and get the hell out of the place right that instance but Psycho was thrusting at me one of his cooked pigeons and I swallowed my bile. I thought about refusing but Psycho was glaring at me quite dangerously, so, courageously, I took the crispy bird. Psycho and I sat in silence for the rest of the meal. I felt relieve for not taking Birdie with me. The bird I was crunching on could be its father or brother. The thought made me sick again.

Wondering what Germania would say if I withdrew my scholarship and headed straight home tomorrow.

* * *

><p>AN: Ok. I hope you enjoy this. To clarify some confusion you might have:

Bum Rusher: France/ Francis

Boggo: Spain/ Antonio

Gay Chicken: America/ Alfred

Psycho: Switzerland/ Vash

Spud: Japan/ Kiku

Denmark/ Mathias

Sweden/ Berwald

The Guv: Scotland/ Angus

Also, if you want your favorite country to appear, just review yeah? I might squeeze them in the story line if I could.

I'll try to write the next chapter as soon as inspiration comes. Though, if the reviews aren't that good, i might take this down. I'm not that satisfy with this story, as you can see. Anyway, thanks again for reading my story.


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